We’re not blood but could that make us any closer
Two brothers making bread you said we’re like a toaster
So I sit in memories give experience to my bro’s
Telling them what I been through
Telling them what I know
Telling them my mistakes
Telling them where to go
So they don’t have to experience walking on the same road

Now I’m reminiscing..
Thinking back on Clinton we were running through the kitchen
I used to tell my mother
“Mom, I want little brothers”
Yall wasn’t what I had planned
But I wouldn’t trade yall for no others

Let me die if that’s a lie
So when I go outside a homicide is my surprise
But if I do survive and stay alive you know that I
Love my brothers to the dead and nothing less, let me describe
I used to think that truth was in the roots
Introduce a couple changes to the roots it makes disputes
But through thick and then, in the end it’s still proof
Your family are the ones that’s there and really care about you